Angel of Mine
by scoob2222
Summary: In Jack's time of need someone comes to help him. JackChloe


Title: Angel of Mine  
Rating: T  
A/N: A few days ago I was desperately seeking fic prompts and **docsgirl16** sent me a lovely little drabble about angel Chloe, so I expanded that. Just a bit of foofy fun for you.

"Oh," the soft gasp made Jack raise his bruised face from the cold metal floor. He was hallucinating. They must have given him some really great drugs for him to be seeing this. Either that or he was dead. Either way he was enjoying the view.

In front of him stood Chloe, dressed in ragged jean cut-offs and a huge men's shirt with a band logo on it. Well she wasn't so much standing as she was flying. With giant wings. They extended from between her shoulders, each a little longer than Jack was tall, fluttering slightly to keep the lithe, white feet from touching the grime.

"I'm going crazy," he announced. "I've finally lost it. Though," he eyed her critically, "what a hell of a way to go." Angelship looked good on Chloe. Of course, just about anything looked good on her. Oh, he was enjoying the irony. Here was his ticket to heaven with wings while he lay damned on the floor.

Clearing his throat, he began to pray. "Our Father who art in Heaven…"

"Ya know, my Boss does know where he's at," Chloe pointed out in her you're-an-idiot voice. "You don't have to tell him." She bobbed up and down then landed on the floor. Those remarkable wings tucked neatly in behind her. "'Course if it makes you feel better," she offered dubiously.

"Am I dead?"

Rolling her eyes, Chloe leaned forward and bopped him on the head.

"Ow."

"You're not dead."

"So I'm going crazy, hallucinating, what is it?"

"It's an intervention. I'm your guardian angel."

"Well, where have you been the last two months while I was getting tortured?"

Chloe put her hands on her hips and flurried towards the ceiling, "Hey, I'm a guardian angel, not a miracle worker. There are some binds even I can't get you out of. You piss off a lot of people Jack Bauer."  
"Yeah, well something would have been helpful."

"I was doing something. I was helping Chloe find you."

He was deeply confused, "But aren't you."

Again Chloe rolled her eyes, "I'm not Chloe, you moron. I am an angel, and as such can take whatever shape or form suits my human charge. This is the form you prefer."

He bit off the retort that the Chloe form her preferred was completely naked.

"I'm your guardian angel, Jack. I can hear your thoughts."

He felt himself blush, "Hey, you're in a cold, damp cell here, so I'm really not going to judge your fantasies. However, I thought it best that you saw the real Chloe naked first, instead of a knockoff version. Speaking of Chloe, she's on her way here. Probably in the next, oh, twenty four hours, with lots of men and lots of guns to rescue you. So get up and give her a hand with that."

"Chloe's coming here. She knows where I am."

"Yeah, her guardian angel and I have been working overtime to help her find you. She's really good with a computer."

"Well, now I'm sure you're an angel, the real Chloe would say she's the best on the computer, cause she is."

"Well, the best got a little added help and located you. You really want to be lucid when she comes to rescue you, so time to wake up."

"Huh?"

"Wake up, Jack, wake up," the soothing voice, became one of annoyance, "Wake up, Jack."

"Chloe?" he asked his eyes drifting open.

"No, it's your guardian angel, of course it's Chloe. Your in a hospital, your back in the U.S. and you've be asleep for twenty-four hours."

"And apparently you decided that was enough to recover from three weeks of torture."

He felt bad saying it when he saw her eyes turn down, "I just wanted to make sure you were okay. It's been weird sitting here and watching you so still and all. Plus, you were kind of calling my name and something about wings. So, I decided to wake you up and make sure it wasn't brain damage."

He laughed slightly, "No brain damage, just a really good dream." He stopped for a moment and looked at her intently until she squirmed and asked what he was thinking, "What size jeans do you wear?"


End file.
